


So We Won't Forget

by Ready_For_The_Laughing_Gas



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton you had one job, F/M, Hamliza, Infidelity, Love Letters, Marriage, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ready_For_The_Laughing_Gas/pseuds/Ready_For_The_Laughing_Gas
Summary: There's never enough paper for them the share all they want to say. Every time, they run out of letters to say the same thing over and over again. Yet even as they run out of ways to say what they both know, they keep writing.Each moment, each sigh, each whisper. For 24 years."Write it down," Elizabeth murmurs half asleep, "I want to remember."
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	So We Won't Forget

Moments like these made Alexander Hamilton miss the scorching warmth of the Caribbean sun. Thick layers of snow test the aging wheels of the carriage he had barely managed to rent for the night. The oversized military coat hung awkwardly on his shoulders and did nothing to prevent the chill from settling his bones. He made a mental note to ask Hercules whether he had the time to fix the coat. 

Cold and beyond uncomfortable, Alexander cursed under his breath as the carriage began to violently shake once it reached cobblestone roads. The change from plain mud to cobblestone signaled they were in the more fashionable parts of Morristown.

_The Schuyler Mansion can't be far away._

He still didn't understand why he had said yes. The General insisted on inviting him to endless balls and parties not meant for people like him. Still, the thrill of having such an opportunity to present himself always compelled him to accompany the General nonetheless.

But every time, the excitement of being George Washington's aide-de-camp quickly wore out. With no name to bear or wealth to show, he soon faded into the background without Washington's guiding hand. No amount of charm could save him from having a slight foreign accent. This Winter's Ball wouldn't be too different.

The carriage shook for one last time and tossed him to the side as it came to an abrupt halt.

With a heavy sigh, he exited the carriage while rubbing the should he had bumped. His eyes went up and silently studied the Christmas decorations. He was sure one of those red bows was worth more than everything he had ever owned.

_The dirt underneath the fingernails of Philip Schuyler has a brighter future than I do._

He walked up the the entrance and mentally prepared himself for another evening as the General's right hand man.

"Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton," the greeter announced as he opened the door for him.

He stepped into the ballroom, unsurprised with the indifference of the guests. Some cast a glance or two, but for the most part he was completely ignored. A part of him thought it might as well be daytime in the Schuyler mansion. A hundred candles or more lit up the room, revealing an amount of detail in the walls that rivaled the wealthiest houses he had ever visited. Couples and guests mingled in circles, creating a picture of sheer joy and contentment. Alexander didn't know what to do other than walk around, in search of the General.

After several minutes of walking aimlessly around, he went back to the greeter as a last resort.

"Has General Washington arrived?"

The greeter stared at him before answering succinctly.

"No, Sir."

Alexander didn't miss the contempt in the greeter's eyes. He knew want went through the servant's mind. There wasn't much separating the two, other than a military rank and a stroke of luck. What right did Alexander have to be where he was?

He clenched his jaw and found a space to stand without bothering anyone. None of his friends were there, understandably so. Alexander was there purely through his proximity to the General. With the exception of Lafayette, tailors and immigrants were not expected at such gatherings. Much to his dismay, Lafayette was sick with the flu.

Polite laughter and pleasant murmurs filled the ballroom, encompassing him as a persistent reminder that he didn't belong there.

_What I would give to have at least Burr here with me._

The minutes dragged on when suddenly, the appearance of a shadow in front of him stopped him from finishing his drink.

He squared his shoulders, expecting the familiar standard uniform of his commander. instead, he saw peach orange dress upon lifting his eyes from the ground.

Parties did not usually occur this way. Pretty young women did not approach him. At least not without the General around.

_Maybe she is looking for someone._

"Excuse me," said the woman with curly black hair, "Allow me to introduce myself."

Well, this never happened at parties.

Dumbfounded, he took her hand and nearly froze mid-bow.

"My name is Angelica Schuyler, and you are?"

_Angelica Schuyler?_

_Schuyler?_

Her words seemed to carry a door with an opportunity in them, and Alexander seized the door handle with brute force.

"Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton, at your service."

With one swift movement, he took her free hand and planted a gentle kiss on her palm.

Could this be what he had been searching for?

Her name reverberated in his skill like the ringing of the morning bell at camp. Loud and clear, this was opportunity knocking and all he had to do was open the door. Their darks eyes met and Alexander resolved not to let this chance slip away.

"It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Schuyler."

Part charm, part truth. He wasn't lying just to please. She was beautiful, in an elegant way. The air around her was dignified and controlled. Apt for a Schuyler.

"Likewise," she said after a slight pause, "Colonel Hamilton."

Their eye contact broke and with fear, he watched her eyes trace the lines of his coat. He had moved heaven and earth to procure a new coat for that evening. His old coat, albeit his size, was worn from the trench and smelled like rotting carcasses. With a sinking feeling, he recognized the way in which she stared at him once she was done.

"Where's your family from?"

There it was. The inevitable question. Even when a thousand miles separated him from the past, the stench is still on him. No brand new military coat or charm could wash it away.

Bastard. Orphan. Immigrant. Son fo a whore.

For the eyes of a rich socialite like her, the label might as well be written on his forehead.

"Unimportant," was his debonair response that carefully hid the desperation trembling in his voice. She knows better by the way her lips curl into a smile.

Had he gone too far?

Wide eyed, he stopped himself from gawking at the fact that she, Angelica Schuyler, placed her hand in the crook of his arm and lead them away from his self-imposed cell in the corner of the ballroom.

"Where are you taking me?"

The question is not suave and it comes out of his mouth before he can stop himself. She smirks and quickly glances at him with a gleam in her eyes that fascinates him.

"I am about to change your life."

To any other man, it would have sounded like a cheeky line, more flirtatious than serious. But to this, it was a promise of a better world. Angelica Schuyler was going to change his life, and there was no doubt in his mind about that.

_So angels are real._

He thought to himself as he turned his head to watch her profile.

"Then by all means, lead the way."

He let himself be led away.

With her in his arm, Alexander felt an unprecedented influx of power as the guests parted to make way for them without the need to ask for permission. He had only ever witnessed this in the presence of the General when inspecting the troops. Through induction, the Schuyler name and all that it carried became his by simply sharing his arm with her. 

They stopped by the staircase and in front of him stood another young woman who wore a mint blue dress and a demure look in her eyes. She was a different kind of beauty, but beautiful.

_If only the guys were here to see this._

She opened her mouth but promptly closed it, seemingly unsure of what to say. Angelica intervened.

"This is my sister."

Alexander might as well have been struck by lighting in that moment. Immediately, he feel his self-control slipping under the realization of what was happening.

"Schuyler?"

"Yes, Elizabeth Schuyler," she regained her composure and happily bowed, "It is a pleasure to meet you." Her smile was sincere and the way her eyes reached for him told Alexander all he needed to know.

"If it takes a war for us to meet," he takes her hand and decides for a more genteel approach with her, "then it will have been worth it."

Something tell shim that Elizabeth Schuyler required a different treatment than the other women he had met. He softly kissed her palm and lingered enough to avoid causing a scandal. He made sure to put some distance between them afterward.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Schuyler."

Elizabeth seemed to suddenly alight with joy.

"I'll leave you to it," Angelica's teasing voice came to them from a distance, even thought she was just several feet away from them.

Now that they were left alone in a crowded room, he allowed himself to admire Elizabeth Schuyler. 

"I trust you have enjoyed your evening here, Colonel Hamilton."

There was a certain roundness to her face, complemented by her soft cheekbones and full lips. Her dress was simple and yet unmistakably expensive. The fabric looked soft even from where he was standing, and the embroidery was impeccable. He committed the curvature of her neck to memory.

She took a small step forward with a combination of courage and trepidation. He couldn't help it when his eyebrows shot up. It was a bold move, and he reciprocated accordingly. By the looks of it, she was watching him closely too when he saw her gaze pause on his hair.

"My attention was focused on enjoying some excellent wine by myself, Miss. Until now, of course."

By then, they were only an arms length away. To anyone looking from the outside, they were just another couple, testing just how close they could get without attracting undue attention. But Elizabeth crossed the invisible line by lightly touching his arm and chuckling.

"I am glad my company has remedied the situation then."

_Quick witted as well._

"General Washington is pleasant company. But you," at the mention of the General he registered surprise in her features, "if I am lucky you will be my partner for tonight, Miss Schuyler."

Without missing a beat, Elizabeth wrapped her arm around his.

"Looks to me that luck is on your side tonight, Colonel."

There was a commotion near the entrance as the guest hurried to see the guest of honor.

"General George Washington!" The greeter announced with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Alexander watched as the ballroom soon became empty as the people rushed to shake hands with the esteemed Virginian veteran. Somehow, the tall General spotted him and waved for him to come over.

_It seems that luck is on my side tonight._

He looked down at her and lowered his head to whisper in her ear.

"Before we dance, I can introduce you to the General, if you want?"

The closeness of his lips to her neck was tantalizing and risky, but he couldn't help himself and she didn't complain. On the contrary, she squeezed his arm tighter and wrapped her other hand around his. 

"I'd be honored to meet him."

The General is delighted to meet her. They spend almost an hour talking. Sometime afterwards, the General excuses himself to talk with other guests. Alexander and Elizabeth dance all night. By the end, he leaves in the same carriage. This time around, the bumps along the road do not hurt as much. His hands are nearly frozen and his vision hazy from all the alcohol. The image of Elizabeth twirling in his arms evades him. Drunkenly he reaches out to her in a vain attempt to keep the memory from vanishing. Yet as he slowly forgets those moments with her, he smiles all the way back to camp.

In his upper left pocket he has a tiny piece of paper with the mailing address of Elizabeth Schuyler.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave suggestions or point out any mistakes. Feedback is encouraged. Anyway, thank you for reading.


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